


Of Holding Grudges and Dislike on First Sight

by GilornethTheGold



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Do Not Separate The Heirs Of Durin, Durin Family, Durin Family Feels, Dwarrow, Dwarves, F/M, Hobbits, Hobbits can hold grudges too, Hurt, Hurt/Romance, Oblivious!Bilbo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pining!Thorin, Romance, Taylor Swift song inspired chapter titles, The Quest of Erebor, Thorin messes everything as usual, Two fools in love, Unrequited Love, fem!Bilbo, slight pride and prejudice influence, well at the beginning it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilornethTheGold/pseuds/GilornethTheGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwarrow are known for being well-versed in the art of holding grudges against others. Hobbits can held their own in this field. An unfortunate Dwarf King learns it the hard way when he offends Bella Baggins on their first meeting.</p><p>Suffice to say, she makes him rue it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! If any of my old readers happens upon this, I will start working on ISOLP soon :) This is mere exercise to get me back into writing! And do read and review! This is unbetaed so there will be mistakes that I've overlooked. Sorry for that XD

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Dwarrow were indeed a stubborn race. They were also well-known for their animosity towards others, particularly other races and specifically the Elvish one. The grudges might be formed on preconceived insults or based on actual conflicts and they could very well last a couple of decades (even centuries).

A lesser known, lesser remarked on truth about Hobbits however was that they were equally capable of holding grudges.

Unlike Dwarrow, Hobbits were quick to forgive but they _certainly_ were not the ones to forget. First impressions though misleading were often lasting when it concerned Hobbits.

Did you have a dispute with a Hobbit on your first meeting? A delay in greeting them, or perhaps you did not praise their beloved and well-tended garden enough? Did you, intentionally or not, slight their cooking skills or hosting abilities?

If yes, then by _Green Lady_ do not expect to be invited to their abode once again. And if you are fortunate enough to receive such an invitation, then drop by with the expectation of stale cookies and cold tea being served to you. And watch out for prune brownies or Brandybuck's special chilli powder in your dessert!

One Dwarvish leader became acquainted with this fact, the hard way. Unimpressed and highly sceptical by the Wizard's praise regarding the prowess of Hobbit burglars, Thorin Oakenshield was not of a mind to pay much attention to the newest addition to the Company. The Wizard was providing them with his aid, and the Dwarven King obliged by allowing him to appoint the fourteenth member of his Company.

He didn't expect the Burglar to turn out to be a _female_ Hobbit, with no prior experience at all in burglaring. The mere notion of her facing a Dragon was ludicrous.

From that point on, Thorin had not been expecting _anything_ from the Burglar. Over the course of the journey, however, she slowly started to defy his expectations (or the lack thereof). He barely deigned to take much notice of her at first, but soon she began to hold his attention. He became _aware_ of her presence; while riding, setting up camp or sitting in a ring around the fire as the cloak of night covered the landscape in utter dark. His eyes were drawn to her comely figure, her bouncing curls which flashed gold in sunlight and her sparkling eyes of an emerald hue which were irresistibly charming. 

But it was not only her beauty that captivated him; Thorin soon came to appreciate her lively disposition that managed to raise the spirits of the Dwarrow when gloom brought by the constant rain or hunger threatened to pull them under, her quick mind that engaged others in spirited debates, her considerable wit that reared on him whenever he reproached her for one thing or another. With very less effort, Bella Baggins slowly made her place in the Company and became the sole subject of his gaze and his thoughts.

Thorin had certainly not envisioned to come to care for a creature he did not deign enough to call by her given name at the start. But 'Burglar' soon converted into 'Hobbit', 'Hobbit' soon changed into 'Miss Baggins', 'Miss Baggins' became simply 'Bella', and 'Bella' turned into _'my Bella'_ (though only in his mind.)

The Dwarf would never have foreseen the burglar appointed to unearth Arkenstone from beneath a fire-breathing dragon, stealing his heart instead.

Bella catered to the admittedly very healthy appetites of his Company, an impressive feat in itself. She faced three mountain Trolls by _herself_ and quite cleverly stalled for time; indirectly ensuring their safety. She quickly learned to handle a blade she could not even hold steadily at first. She made the choice to go along with him- with _them_ , leaving her warm and spacious home to travel through the unpredictable and perilous wilderness. And once again when offered protection and safety, Bella Baggins left the sanctity of Rivendell with in order to continue the Quest.

Bella remained while Thorin doubted her time and time again. He rebuffed her innumerable times and did not once attempt to get to know her. She nearly plummeted to her death after encountering the stone Giants and he been terror-stricken, so desperately afraid of losing her. But instead of providing comfort (he desperately desired to pull her in his arms), the Dwarf had once again admonished her with harsh words. She escaped unscathed from the Goblin Town when they forsook her, appearing out of blue the exact moment he was raving about her not coming back _ever_.

The Dwarf's discerning gaze perceived the hurt and anger in her gold flecked green eyes but he was far too relieved at that moment to take back his bitter words, content to gaze at her and make sure she was fine, that she was not hurt and it was all going to be alright- then the Orcs cut through the clearing and apologies were all but forgotten. 

And then, of all the miracles to occur, Bella saved _his_ life. His Burglar, whom everyone largely underestimated, stood between the Defiler and himself and shielded his unconscious, wounded form.

He knew that he had been utterly wrong about her and utterly unfair to her, forming prejudices before he even got acquainted with her and sticking to them without even getting to know her. Thorin had apologised and she accepted his apology graciously. He proceeded to draw her close to his chest on the Carrock and she melted in the brace of his arms, and everything was perfect- _Mahal she was perfect for him._

Why had he not realised it before?

For a few blissful hours all his thoughts were preoccupied by Bella Baggins, for Thorin had just discovered that she was his One and he felt so elated that he thought he could take on the whole world if only she were by his side. It did not hit him all at once like a blow of hammer, instead it was a slow and gradual realisation- a glowing jewel that had grown his heart whenever they had been close and he only just managed to unearth it.

They had been running for their lives from a gigantic bear and the vile Orcs, the Dwarrow were exhausted and famished and yet his thoughts were consumed by her, of proposing courtship as soon as they were in a safe shelter. The thought of that alone lend the Dwarf strength; he sprinted forwards, unbolted the gigantic gate and ushered the rest of the Company inside.

And he led her to the back garden that night in Beorn's house, when sleep claimed everyone and only they were still conscious of the world around them. The Hobbit was nearly always the last one to doze off, more drained than anyone and yet less accustomed to sleep outdoors with roots and twigs poking her back. This night however, she was still up and about as Thorin had especially requested for a private audience, and with some bewilderment Bella obliged. 

They stood under the dark velvet sky and Thorin took a few moments to appreciate the wild, unruly and breathtakingly beautiful garden illuminated by the silvery strands of moonlight. He wondered how to began, was trembling with excitement and fear as he started- warming up soon after and yet still apprehensive, he professed his love for her, poured out the extent of his affections in whispered words and requested her to grant him her consent to braid his beads into her long, honey curls.

Bella froze to the spot, and gaped at him for a good many moments as if he had grown an extra head. Her eyes went very wide, and he was standing close enough that he could see the blatant shock on her face.

"You don't even like me!" And with that a storm unleashed. Thorin was not at all been prepared for the onslaught. "You barely ever look at me, let alone talk to me in a civil tone!"

"I do like you," He responded and desperately wished he was more eloquent. It was never been an issue before. "I-

But Miss Baggins it seemed was not finished just yet. His eyes perceived the apples of her cheeks glowing red in a way that always sought to endear him to her. And yet at that moment Thorin Oakenshield, the heir to throne of Durin, had taken a step back.

"-and when you do look, its only to find fault in me. You made your opinion of me clear enough, Thorin Oakenshield- I'm weak and a hindrance. I don't deserve to be here, I have no place amongst your kind!"

He was startled by her words. And she had clearly taken his earlier ones to her heart.

"I took everything back, at Carrock." Thorin had managed to utter- and he intended to say a lot afterwards, to rebuke her every claim and show her he truly meant to-

But Bella, whom he always admired for her quick mind, had been _quick_ to retort."You only felt indebted because I saved your life. You don't have to. You saved mine back when we happened upon the Stone Giants. And I would have done the same had there been someone else in your place. Without the leader, the Quest is nothing- you _had to_ survive! And I was the only one not trapped in the trees and facing some sort of hindrance-"

The Dwarf had cut in then, bewildered at her rambling. "I do feel indebted and I-"

"Don't! I know that we mutually dislike each other, and I can't see anything productive coming out of this conversation. You may respect me now to some degree, you finally accept that I can be an asset to your Quest rather than a liability, but you don’t _like_ me."

"I don't dislike you- _Mahal_ how many times will you make me say that?" His brows furrowed over his eyes. Did she not pay attention to a single word he uttered?

"I hold you in the very greatest regard! There is something between us, something powerful and strong. I feel for you things I have never felt for another being in my entire life." He drew closer to her then, taking hold of her hand in a firm but gentle grasp. "And you, Bella Baggins, talk to me of not ‘liking’ you?"

She did not withdrew her palm, she grasped his tighter instead. Thorin wasn't sure whether it was a good sign or not. Yet he could not help hoping, longing.

He lowered his head, and rested his forehead against hers and she did not stop him, she _shivered_. 

"There is something between us, far more potent than mere ‘like’," he whispered softly. "There is passion here, can you not sense it? There is loyalty and steadfastness and attraction, can you not feel it, Bella? You tremble at my touch, you tremble when I take your hand. That is not to be ignored."

Bella had taken a deep breath and then she pulled away, and he felt the loss immediately. 

"You insulted me on my own doorstep, Thorin." She spoke slowly, and the bitterness in her voice startled him. "I would be a fool if I thought that you could ever like me."

"You- you must detest me then if that event is still so clear in your mind. If for that one memory you are willing to overlook everything that occurred since and _everything_ that I have said now."

"I don't detest you- you cannot reasonably expect me to accept your proposal! The first thing you ever said to me was to offend and demean me! We barely had a civil conversation. Now only do I get accepted in the Company- and you spring something like this on me! Without any warning- without even befriending me at first! We barely know each other-" there had been more of that, said in the same spirit. But it all began and ended with their first encounter.

His heart torn asunder, a strange sensation welling up somewhere low down inside him to leap up to the surface in a passionate escape- Thorin hadn't been able to endure it any further. "You have made your opinion on the subject quite clear, Miss Baggins. I apologize for taking up your time, and bid you a good night." 

He hadn't gone inside until she had left, for it was pitch dark and devastated as he was- Thorin hadn't been of the mind to leave his One out there on her own. When she slipped away indoors with quiet footfalls that only a Hobbit could manage, he followed her wake. 

There was moisture in his eyes which he furiously rubbed away with his hands. It was not until he had stepped inside his room unsteadily did Thorin forlornly subside into a huge mahogany seat placed by the window, from which faint moonlight streamed inside, and he tried vainly to gather himself for he felt it surely coming. The sob he had been fighting a losing battle with, refused to be beaten. 

Up and up, it forced its way till at last the Dwarf gave up the struggle and cried freely and helplessly now that he knew it was all over for him and he lost what he could hardly have said to have found.

And while he was reduced to this state of misery, she too was in her room lying miserably on her bed with pearly tears making their way down hers eyes in a steady stream.

He wasn't able to sleep all night long, the one night they were supposed to get rest and momentarily let go of the worries of what future might have in store for them. She cried and cried until no more tears would form in her puffy eyes, and then had drifted off into a restless slumber.

He had offended her. And she shattered his heart in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not help but use P&P famous opening as the first line. I jUST COULDNT


	2. And right before your eyes, I'm breaking

If only Thorin had foreseen the future unfurling before him in such a devastating manner, had been privy to the knowledge that it would bring him nothing but further grief; he would _surely_ have held his wretched tongue like he should've the first time.

_"You look more like a grocer than a burglar."_

One sentence. Only one blasted sentence, doubting the validity of her given profession (which turned out to be false entirely) and it was enough to make her set in her abhorrence of him.

The Dwarf was forced to further admit (to himself), that his aloof behaviour bordering on disdain and scorn did nothing to endear the Hobbit to him. He had barely ever made an attempt to recommend himself to her, how could he be so blind to his own faults in the matter? How could he fail to take her feelings into account? How could he have not seen this coming?

And how by Durin’s beard could he ever have hoped to win over her heart? 

The King-in-exile had been utterly oblivious of the ability of Hobbits to hold grudges over a stretch of time. He also remained unaware of the fact that the combined force of her Baggins heart and Tookish spirit made Bella Baggins exceptionally consistent in regarding someone with disfavour.

She had befriended everyone in the Company by the point they arrived at Beorn’s abode; breaking out into gay laughter at Bofur's ridiculous jokes, bantering and making cynical observations with Nori, sharing a strange silent companionship with Bifur, preparing food from meagre rations with Bombur, swapping tales of their respective cultures with Ori, discussing various benefits and blends of tea with Dori, pointing out medicinal herbs to Oin, listening to Gloin's ceaseless tales of his beloved family patiently, inquisitively questioning Balin about Erebor and Dwarven traditions- even Dwalin the fierce warrior had started to look out for her. 

But out of all members of the Company, his ekûn forged the strongest bonds with his own nephews. Fíli and Kíli, his flesh and his blood, whom he regarded more so as his sons than his sister's offspring- who practically regarded her as the sister they never had.

They called her akrâgnana and she retorted that it was too much of a mouthful, and that she would much prefer them using her given name.

Thorin knew she did not properly understand what this new bond truly implied, he also knew that she concealed her overwhelmed feelings behind her usual snark and complaining.

And yet even after she became the honour-sister of his nephews, she continued to remain reserved and apathetic to him, and no efforts exerted on his behalf would sway her. 

Those emerald eyes flecked with gold that gazed at the world with renewed wonder every single day, that held kindness and empathy when they made contact with others, held no warmth for him.

That breath taking smile that made anvils pound inside him, would become tight-lipped whenever she became aware of his presence.

The warm chamber in her chest that had a place in it for every creature she met; Dwarf, Elf, bird and beast (with Orcs and Wargs being the obvious exception) held no place for him let alone particular regard.

“Would you like to know more about Erebor, Miss Baggins?” He spoke tentatively, offering her a small smile. “My words wouldn’t do it any justice, but-”

“Perhaps another time, Master Dwarf.” She responded. Her tone was soft, but it felt more like a sharp blow of hammer than a raised voice would have. “I intend to take a bath downstream.”

“Do you want me to stand guard? It is not quite safe to venture out all by yourself in these parts.”

“Are you implying that I cannot defend myself?” Her retort was immediate and sharp.

Much of their conversations occurred in a similar vein. She rebuffed his attempts to bury the hatchet between them and took offense where he certainly intended to give none.

And yet when his voice roused the Company awake every morning following the events after Carrock, she was among the first to rise. Her stance would acknowledge him as her leader, her eyes would hold infinite respect for him and he knew she would follow him to the end of Arda if he asked it of her (with only mild complaining).

Why, oh why would she not let him in her heart then?

Bella Baggins was a paradox and Thorin Oakenshield was bewildered and lost, and he remained so as he led his Dwarrow deep into a murky and spider-infested forest against everyone’s better judgement. They consumed all their rations, were nearly swallowed alive by said spawn of Ungoliant before Bella came to their aid, were taken captives by the woodland Elves, rescued once more by the Hobbit and finally the Company arrived at Lake-Town.

By that time Thorin learned to steel his heart. He no longer gazed at Bella as his wont- with his eyes full of admiration and tender regard where she perceived only contempt. He had botched every attempt to gain her affections, she would never consent be his and allow him to be hers (and yet he was, utterly and undeniably).

They faced hardships together on this Quest, they endured and overcame countless obstacles, they offered each other respect, they took each other’s opinion into consideration and trusted each other with their lives.

It would have to be enough for him. This tentative friendship- no it could not even be called that. He was her employer, they struggled to survive whatever came out hurling to meet them and that was the extent of what they were.

Companions on a perilous journey, not friends.

And Thorin Oakenshield, grandson of the renowned King Thror before he fell and his kingdom crumbled, heir to the said kingdom would remain a despondent, love-starved Dwarf for the rest of his wretched life.

Or so, he allowed himself to think. Before Fíli and Kíli decided they were done with his ceaseless brooding.

He knew that Kíli was homesick, had been since the distressing encounter with the stone giants- when for a few terrible moments they both thought they would never set eyes on Fíli again. Erebor was the home they set out to reclaim, but his nephews attained maturity in Ered Luin. It was their first venture out, so far from the Blue Mountains.

Thorin was also aware that while Fíli was more proficient at concealing his true emotions, he was no better off than his brother. 

They were of Durin’s blood, strong of heart and mind. He had made them sternly aware when they volunteered and signed a copy of contract given to them rather reluctantly by Balin, that he would be their king on their quest and they would be his heirs- instead of an uncle and his nephews. An almost father and his almost sons.

They were adults and warriors. He would have never asked it of them to join him on what was dubbed by others a suicidal mission. The key had presented itself to him, it was now his fate to bear. And it had entirely been their choice to follow him or stay behind. Thorin would not shame them by turning them away for their own protection.

And they hadn’t failed him. First to charge, last to retreat and always remaining by his side.

He however figured out soon enough that somewhere along the way, their view of the world had started to alter. Gone were the grand (and exaggerated) proclamations of Thorin King and Your Majesty and My Liege which made him simultaneously want to break out in laughter, knock their heads together and break a tree trunk over his own head. Gone was the constant thirst to prove themselves, the relentless drive to make him proud of them.

They were cautious and wary now, even impulsive and careless Kíli. Their smiles were gradually becoming dimmer, their faces strained and they spend every conscious moment with him and each other as if it would be their last.

“You honestly thought I wasn’t aware?” He had inquired mildly of his crown heir, the next morning.

“The creature called Kíli, who’s mind process I still fail to understand, thought that.” Fíli’s lips quirked up, as his hands stopped in midst of cleaning one of his long-range knives.

Under the delusion that he wouldn't notice, Kíli had sneakily inched his and his brother’s bedrolls just that little bit closer to Thorin’s every night after the events at Carrock, perhaps even as early as the unfortunate encounter with Trolls, so eventually all three would line up side by side.

During day both his sister-sons flocked on his either side as if they were his self-appointed guards, wearing identical expressions which ranged from concern to sympathy. They kept his mind off grim thoughts, drawing unadulterated fond smiles from him as only they could. It was stealthy and ridiculous and it remained that way until Fíli decided it was enough. 

They got up from the fireside, picked up their bed-rolls and Fíli directed his brother crisply to their destination. Casually and efficiently, the brothers smoothed their bed-rolls out on either side of Thorin. Fíli on the right, Kíli on the left. Perfectly aligned to their Uncle’s bed-roll.

Thorin gave a long-suffering sigh, vainly attempted to command them to return to their original places, before giving up and throwing his arms around them to pull them closer. 

He had entirely failed to register a familiar pair of gold veined emerald irises that watched the trio intently, while the Dwarrow exchanged their winnings (they had placed bets on how long the bedrolls of the heirs of Durin would take before they were spread out side by side of course).

“You honestly thought we weren’t aware?” Fíli quietly challenged him after a while, and he nearly growled in frustration- well aware of what was implied in those seemingly innocuous words.

They had known even before he knew, and it slightly unnerved him the way the duo knew him better than he knew himself. And once Fíli and Kíli had realized it, Balin and Dwalin soon caught up. And after that fated night in Beorn's House, the King and the Burglar’s raised voices alerted those who had yet remained oblivious.

He would never have thought it possible, but his Company had started to gaze at him with renewed awe. Thorin had always been told that he was a born leader, that he could command attention and respect from others without even trying- but this was something else entirely.

The reverent look in the eyes of his kinsmen was due to a number of reasons, he survived at Erebor’s fall, he outlasted the bitter days of exile, he endured the event of his grandfather’s grieving death, he lived through the harsh blow of losing his father and his brother on the same day- Thorin Oakenshield had survived countless twists of fate.

And now he was surviving his One's rejection.

He managed a humourless laugh at that. Thorin couldn't afford to mourn and he certainly was not going to fade. Not until he won the mountain back for his people and regain their true home.

Then perhaps, would he allow his heart bleed and rage and rave until he felt numb and no pain could ever grasp him again.

No, pain he could deal with- had dealt with before. Physical pain, yes. But this, this pain was entirely of a different ilk and entirely of his own making.

"Thorin?" A soft voice whispered. He was sitting disconsolately by the window sill, gazing at the peak of Erebor illuminated by pink and gold haze of dawn, waiting for the rest of the Company to rouse and he was aware of her footfalls in the hallway even before her sweet voice broke the melancholy silence. 

Thorin couldn't bear to look at her radiant face.

But gaze at her he did, and he was surprised to see an eager but tentative smile on her lips. A steaming cup of tea was in her hands and she offered it to him.

"I made this for you."

"For me?" He raised a brow, and stared blankly at her. To say he was surprised at her seeking him out, would be a blatant understatement- could he… could he bring himself to hope?

"Fíli said you looked like you needed a cup." She offered as explanation, waving her free hand about. Suddenly her cheeks reddened and she cast her gaze away, and before he could as much as utter a word of gratitude- she was gone.

Nothing had changed.

She wasn’t even her usual chirpy but sardonic self around him.

Thorin drank the hot beverage and found it was made just according to his preference. And it tasted of regret and shattered hopes.

They set out for the Lonely Mountain the following day, and Thorin couldn’t help but glow with pride when his Be- when _Bella_ is the first to spot the path leading to it. 

He gazed at her in awe when she figured out the riddle of the map. He gave up, his Company forsook hope- but Bella was never the one to give up without a fight.

_The last light of Durin's Day, it's the moonlight, the last moon of Autumn! And there's the thrush knocking and oh look! There it is, there's the keyhole- quick Thorin, place the key!_

And he gave her a smile of sheer wonder and barely restrained himself from taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless on the spot. The Quest would have been doomed without her.

The following events occurred so quickly that they are a chaotic impression in his mind. Thorin was only truly aware of himself, and the surroundings after his clouded vision cleared and the illness in his blood ceased singing to him of gold and more gold and grievances he harboured against treacherous Elves and coward Men.

He had failed and failed hard, and Mahal strike him dead for his sins were innumerable and unpardonable. He turned away those who required aid, he distrusted his own kin and forced them to search for a mere stone day after day and night after night without food and rest. Gold entranced him and he fell victim to the same sickness that his grandfather did- the same ailment he swore he would never allow to get to him.

Worst of all he ignored the needs of his Company and the Dwarrow that meant the world to him, he neglected his flesh, his blood- his Fíli, his Kíli. He refused to listen to logic or reason and paid for it when his Bella, whom he never thought would betray him despite the fact she cared naught for him; was forced to intervene.

She took what was his, his heart and the Arkenstone and finally, finally something in him snapped. She didn't dislike him. She _hated_ him.

And he hated himself for it were his lips that banished her from the mountain she helped reclaimed.

“I loved you once,” he had told her, ice in his voice, fire in his eyes. “I loved you once and although you despised it, consider it a blessing now. It is the only reason I stay my sword.”

He ignited the war and he was responsible for the wreckage and carnage. He was accountable for millions of precious lives it claimed, for the blood that stained the barren ground outside Erebor. 

Bella- how right she had been in her judgement! He truly did not deserve her love, nor the boundless love, admiration and infinite respect from his nephews nor deference and loyalty from his kin.

With the thought the he was utterly irredeemable, Thorin Oakenshield sought out his bitterest foe. He would slay him and then greet death with outstretched arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ekûn: One
> 
> akrâgnana: honour-sister” / female that is no direct relation by blood, yet is regarded by one as a sister, holding her in high honor and offering an unshakable sense of loyalty, friendship and profound platonic love.


End file.
